


Symbol of Prestige

by GenerallyHuxurious (GallifreyanOmnishambles)



Series: Modern Emperors [8]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Anniversary, Body Image, Canon Hux meets Modern Hux, Chubby Hux, Clothed Sex, Clothing Kink, Compatibility, Cultural Differences, Devotion, Dimension Travel, Dress Up, M/M, Mirror Sex, Self-Acceptance, Self-cest, Sexual Roleplay, Shameless, Showers, Starvation, Ten Years Later, Weight Gain, When AUs collide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyanOmnishambles/pseuds/GenerallyHuxurious
Summary: Modern Emperors AU. It's been ten years since Auren Hux first arrived on Earth and dramatically entered Eamon Hux' life. When Eamon playfully points out a change in Auren's body shape the former First Order Lieutenant General doesn't react quite how he'd expected...
For Niche Kink November Day 2.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Small piece of background for those unfamiliar with this specific AU- from age 4 to 29 Auren lived in near starvation conditions in the failing exiled First Order fleet. This fic is set when he's roughly 39. 
> 
> This fic is dedicated to all the chubby Hux fans who've supported my own mpreg works, you rock, thank you.

“Do you know what today is?”

It was a Sunday. A slow lazy Sunday that had started with sleepy sex and lunch in bed before progressing to long decadent shower. 

Auren Hux shook his head, unwilling to play guessing games when he’d rather luxuriate in the rare opportunity not to think. 

“It’s the tenth anniversary.” Eamon said with a smile. He pressed closer to Auren, letting his Likeness massage shampoo through his hair while he scrubbed languidly at Auren’s back. Neither of them were properly awake, too full of endorphins to move quickly. “Ten years on Earth, ten years with me.”

There wasn’t really any response Auren could give to that revelation other than to kiss him, so he did.

“What do you want to do to celebrate?”

“You.” Auren said instantly.

Eamon snorted. “And you’ve had me. What else?”

“Remember our third anniversary? We could try that again. Maybe we’ll actually finish this time, if you don’t wear my uniform.”

“No,” Eamon sighed, “we can’t, they tore down the factory years ago, when we bought out the stockyards. Besides,” he said with an impish grin, “I don’t think you’d fit into that uniform any more.”

Long fingers, slightly wrinkled from the water, squeezed teasingly at Auren’s middle. He looked down with a frown at the small roll of flesh between Eamon’s fingers.

“Why don’t we go downstairs and see if we can think of something else?” Eamon continued as he shut off the water.

Auren nodded, lost in thought, and wandered out of the shower to grab a towel. Eamon’s ablutions usually took a few minutes longer than his own so Auren took the opportunity to move into the dressing room alone and consider himself with a critical eye.

Over the years they’d both found it easy to slip into the mindset of behaving as one unit. They were the same person, living in the same body. Yes they’d had different life experiences until they’d met, very different indeed, but now they were together it was all too easy to blur the lines between Likeness and self. They trained together, travelled together, fought together. There were even entire days when they wouldn’t exchange a single word, simply moving through their lives as a single unit lead by a shared purpose. 

Of course they had their own roles to play in the their endeavours. While they might train together it was usually Eamon who took the more physical tasks while Auren would dedicate weeks to sedentary research. Which explained what he was seeing now. 

Auren didn’t often look in mirrors any more- they were each other’s eyes and could trust one another to fix any wayward element of their appearance. But Eamon had never mentioned this. 

Dropping his towel Auren ran his hands slowly down his torso from collarbone to thigh. He couldn’t help the shaky exhale at what he found. He was soft. He tensed his fingers against his legs and watched as the skin there moulded to the pressure. Maintaining the force of his touch he dragged his hands back up, breathing hard at the red lines and rolling fat that flowed back in their wake. By the time he reached his navel he was gripping a handful of flesh on either side of his torso and his face was beginning to flush. 

Was Eamon right? Would his First Order uniform fit any more?

It took three attempts to open the closet where the last evidence of his military life hung, his fingers were shaking so. Too impatient to pull on the entire uniform he grabbed the belt and pulled it roughly around his waist. 

He had to breathe in to fasten the buckle. Biting his lip in anticipation he breathed out slowly with a sound that turned from a sigh to a moan. His stomach overhung the leather. He turned slightly, twisting his torso to see his back. The thick band cut into his flesh at the movement. It was a transcendent sensation went straight to his cock. Despite coming less than an hour before he saw it thicken and stir as he ran a fingertip over the slight roll of flesh pressing over the belt on either side of his spine.

Slowly he kneaded his hands over the bulges, tugging and pressing into the soft yielding flesh. His cock twitched again, already half hard and leaking slightly.

“Auren, what are you… oh.” Eamon stepped up behind him, tentative fingers brushing the small of his back. “Don’t get upset, you’re near 40, it’s to be expected but we can do something about it if it bothers you.”

Auren caught his Likeness’ hand and pressed it firmly against his skin. One of his nails slipped under the belt and pinched the skin. Auren groaned, his cock suddenly fully hard as a pulse of precome ran down his length.

“You don’t understand.” He gasped, reaching back blindly for the other hand and dragging it around to flatten the mass of his belly down against the buckle. He felt suddenly hot. His heart rate was thundering out of control. 

“What don’t I understand?” Eamon asked gently, trying to hide his hurt at this uncharacteristic, and these days very rare, correction of his understanding. They were the same, they were one another’s Likeness, they moved as one. To not understand was to be Other and over the years it had become an almost uncomfortable experience.

“I… I know your culture, Western Earth culture I mean, values what you have,” Auren said breathlessly, leaning back to grope at Eamon’s slim wiry frame. Meanwhile Eamon continued to unconsciously trace the outline of his belt, his eyes fixed on Auren’s face in the mirror. Auren licked his lips and closed his eyes, unable to hold his gaze. “But in the First Order, in exile, with so few resources, to reach a position where your calorific intake exceeded your needs… It was a right of passage, one I never achieved, even when I made Brigadier. Most officers found that the shift to commanding entire ships or regiments to be enough- simulations at that level ceased to involve physical participation and focused on strategy instead. But I had Starkiller, I had a thousand and one projects and only 28 hours in a day…”

“And you never eat enough, and you live on caffeine instead of sleep.” Eamon finished for him, a smile in his voice as fingers walked slowly down the length of Auren’s treasure trail, making him whine. “So having a belly was a sign of success? But we’re naturally thin so you didn’t have that?”

“Oh I was successful, and feared, but this,” He grabbed his stomach again and moaned, “having this would have open doors to more social forms of power. We were so few and had so little- there were weight limits on breeding rights. Even when I was promoted to Lieutenant General, seventh highest ranking in the entire Order, I was still denied the right to father more than one child. I was still physically inferior. I was wanted, I could always find someone amongst the crew eager to warm my bed but I was never requested to breed. It… it was a shameful failing.”

Eamon’s hands stopped just above the root of Auren’s cock, cupping the swell of his small stomach. It was barely even noticeable. Fully dressed he doubted that even Mitaka would notice the difference in their physiques. At first, when Auren had left the bathroom in pensive silence, Eamon had felt terrible for mentioning it. He hadn’t raised it as a criticism, merely an observation, as obvious and treasured a difference between them as Auren’s scars or body hair. He’d been certain he’d inadvertently insulted him and was prepared to suggest changes to their training schedule, or some other assistance. Instead he’d found Auren flushed and aroused at the sight of himself. 

He opened his mouth to ask a question but Auren answered before he could vocalise it, his mind apparently falling into line with his Likeness’ faster than Eamon’s was syncing with his.

“I’m not telling you this as a criticism,” Auren said, turning in his arms and pushing close until his cock was trapped between the firm plan of Eamon’s stomach and the slight roll of his own. “You are perfect, I would not expect or desire that you let your body get like this when it does not suit your role in life, and I will change it if it bothers you but… realising I had come so far, and gained so much that my body could finally do this, it’s… I can’t express how thrilling it is to me. Please, let me enjoy it for a while.”

Eamon frowned and tipped his head slightly, studying Auren’s face. His cheeks were flushed; his lips were twisting in a failing effort to hold back a bright, joyous smile; his pupils were blown until there was only a thin band of rich emerald green around the glittering black. He was beautiful, as he always was and there was nothing Eamon would ever ask him to change. 

Something in his perception shifted. Warmth seemed to flood through him, filling his belly and overflowing into his limbs. His mind slipped back into alignment and he felt Auren’s intense arousal as if it were his own. 

He pinched at the roll of flesh at Auren’s side again, pulling at the evidence of rich dinners eagerly enjoyed and long days of sedentary research. Against his stomach a pulse of precome spread slowly across his skin.

“There is one thing you should change,” he said, watching Auren’s face under coyly lowered lashes.

“Oh?”

“You should try on your full uniform.” Eamon grinned when Auren groaned and bucked against him. “You’d want to see those little bulges pulling at the cut of the fabric, the signs your crew would have noticed and envied, wouldn’t you?”

Hot breath ghosted against his skin. “Fuck.”

In the end he had to help Auren to pull the pieces of his uniform out of the closet, his hands were shaking too much and the left especially seemed unable to maintain a proper grip. 

Licking his lips Auren unclasped the belt. It peeled away from the slightly shower damp skin with a soft sucking noise that made him sigh, but the groan at the sight of the indents it had left in its wake made Eamon’s cock stir in turn. 

Auren was so into this. He’d seen him enthusiastic and horny before but this far exceeded any of that. This was positively pornographic. Eamon wondered how far he could push it. 

“May I have the honour of dressing you, Lieutenant General?” He ventured, unsure of the proper form of address but certain he’d gotten the idea right when Auren gave him a look so intense he was surprised he didn’t catch fire.

Instead of replying Auren simply pulled himself up to his full height, his stance widening to parade rest and his hands held imperiously out to his side. 

Eamon grinned at the power radiating from him and set about pulling on his tunic with slow, careful moments. 

It fitted just as it always had at the arms and across the shoulders - extra space built into it to give the impression of a breadth of frame they had never possessed - but the narrow waist was a struggle to fasten across the slight swell of Auren’s belly. With every catch he fastened Auren’s breathing speed up a little more and he saw Auren clench his fists in an aborted move to grab at Eamon’s waist when the belt was buckled again.

He moaned when Eamon sank to his knees. Eamon settled in place, deliberately spreading his thighs wide to show off the gape of his so recently used hole in the mirror behind him before he held out the pants that completed Auren’s uniform. 

Apparently the First Order uniform had usually included some rather hideous puffy jodhpurs, but the variant Auren had been wearing the fateful night they first met had been fitted to the point of almost being leggings. As soon as Auren stepped into the first leg Eamon knew they wouldn’t fit any more. 

It was a struggle to tug them up. Kneeling as close as he was, Auren’s cock bobbed continuously at the edge of his vision, smearing thick strands of precome across his cheek and hair. He was almost tempted to suck it while he worked, but he suspected Auren would rather wait until he came.

Auren was actively panting, his whole frame shifting with every breath when Eamon finally got the waistband up over his hips. He tugged the sides of the fly towards one another. He leaned back and hauled, the button almost but not quite making contact with it corresponding buttonhole. 

He looked up and met Auren’s intense stare.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” he said in a faux deferential voice, enjoying this little bit of roleplay intensely as Auren broke the eye contact and stared at his own reflection, one hand tracing the bulges and curves of his physique through his uniform, whilst the other idly stroked his length. “I’m very sorry, Sir, but I’m afraid they just won’t fasten at all.”

“Turn around,” Auren said in a thick voice, unable to drag his eyes away from the mirror.

Eamon shuffled around on his knees and immediately bent forward to press his chest into the carpet. The arch of his back put his ass on display but it would also prevent his body from restricting Auren’s view. He folded his arms in front of him and, resting his chin on his forearm, he settled in to watch the show.

Behind him Auren sank to his knees, moaning again when the folding on his legs highlighted the rolls of flesh at his waist. 

His cock stood proud between the black panels of his tunic, the head livid and leaking. For a moment he lifted the panels to study the tight stretch of the pants straining around his hips, one hand idly rubbing the base of Eamon’s spine as he stared. 

Eamon wriggled his hips as a playful reminder of his presence. 

Auren grinned at him in the mirror. It was a softer and warmer expression than he’d ever seen on that face but when Eamon opened his mouth to comment he found himself gasping instead. He was still loose and wet from the morning so with one long easy slide, Auren entered him to the hilt.

Leaning back slightly Auren withdrew and slammed home again, running his hands over his own sides as they flexed. Pleased with the effect he repeated the movement and set a hard, steady pace.

Oversensitive from his earlier orgasm Eamon found his eyes practically rolling back in his head at the sensation. It felt a little strange to have Auren fucking into him without holding on and he had to fight to keep his place, but that only made him clench harder around Auren’s cock until he was almost sobbing with every thrust. 

“Oh fuck, Auren, that feels amazing!”

Suddenly one of Auren’s hands was in Eamon’s hair, pulling him up slightly to change the angle. 

Eamon keened, biting at his own wrist to keep from screaming. Just as Auren hit his prostate with a blow that brought him to the very edge, the other hand came down on his ass, hard, driving back his orgasm.

“That’s ‘General’ to you!” Auren hissed, expression angry but eyes still smiling to signal a continuation of their roleplay. Eamon moaned against his arm again. “And don’t you dare cover your mouth, if I wanted you to be quiet I’d have gagged you!”

He thrust hard again, tugging at Eamon’s hair to highlight his point.

“Fuck,  _ General _ , please!” Eamon half screamed at the ceiling.

“Please what?”

“May I touch you?”

Eamon reached back towards Auren’s waist, his hand hovering as he waited for permission, Auren’s cock driven impossibly deep inside him. He had to arch his back deeper to reach so far behind him, which covered much of Auren’s view. Gentle hands urged him to turn until they were side onto the mirror. Breathing hard, Auren paused for a moment with his eyes closed and his chest heaving.

“You may.”

Sinking his fingers into the soft flesh of Auren’s side, Eamon almost laughed when his eyes snapped open with a look of astonished pleasure.

“Oh,  _ stars… _ ”

Hips stuttering slight Auren restarted the sharp rolling pace, watching himself in the mirror while Eamon watched him turn, fascinated by the smile that kept appearing before being hidden behind the teeth that worried at Auren’s lower lip. 

He could tell Auren was close, could feel the tightening in his stomach and the repeated failure of his rhythm. 

Determined to spur him on, Eamon squeezed the flesh under his fingers. Auren groaned. He pulled. Auren whimpered. He slapped his side with an open hand and suddenly Auren was dragging him upright until his back was against Auren’s chest. Frantic fingers tugged at his cock twice before he came, pushed over the edge by the sensation of Auren’s own climax inside him. 

Uniform clad arms came up to wrap firmly around his naked chest while Auren pressed his face into his hair with a murmured, “Thank you.”

Eamon tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath.

“Now I need a shower all over again.” He said eventually.

Behind him Auren laughed.

“Assuming we ever actually manage to get dressed and leave the house, let’s just go out for dinner.” Auren suggested with that warm smile again.

Eamon squeezed his hip and nodded. “It’s a big assumption, but if we don’t manage we can always order in.”


End file.
